I'm Sorry
by cindy123
Summary: The boys fight and Sam walks out to get some air. Dean awakens hours later to find that Sam has disappeared. Will he find his brother in time? Will he be able to tell Sam that he is sorry? Hurt/Sam; freaked, protective/Dean; protective, helpful Bobby.
1. Chapter 1

.** I'm Sorry**

The door opened into the shabby motel room and in stormed Dean Winchester followed by his little brother Sam.

"C'mon Dean! I said I was sorry!" cried Sam. "It's not like I did it on purpose!"

"You know Sam, all I asked was for a few minutes of shut eye, and what do you do!? You wreck my baby!" shouted Dean.

"Dean, I can't help it if a deer jumps into the road right in front of me!"

"You could, let's see, try to avoid hitting it!"

"Dean, it was either the deer or the trees! Which would you prefer?"

"I would have preferred neither!"

"Look, I said I was sorry! What else do you want from me?"

" I want for you to get out of my sight before I make your face look like my baby!" Dean retorted.

A look of shock and sadness crossed Sam's face and Dean almost regretted what he had said. Almost.

"You know Dean, it seems as though sometimes you care more about the Impala than you do about me!" Sam said sadly.

"Yeah, well at least she doesn't talk back to me! And she sure as hell doesn't get me into all the trouble you seem to find so effortlessly!" Dean replied.

Sam had no reply for this. It wasn't like he had any control over the evil son's of bitches that were forever drawn to him. He didn't really think that Dean cared more for the Impala before, but now he wasn't so sure. The look in Dean's eyes made him back away slightly.

"You know, maybe I will get out of your sight for awhile Dean! Maybe then you'll cool off a little and we can talk about this like adults." Sam said quietly.

"Yeah? Well don't hold your breath. And make it long while will ya!" Dean snapped.

With that, Sam turned and walked out of the room into the early morning sun.

If Dean had known what was lurking out there, watching and waiting, he would never have let Sam out of his sight. But, of course he didn't know so he went about his business of being pissed. And tired. God, he was tired.

He and Sam had been on the hunt for a phantom cat that had been wreaking havoc on the locals. At first it was chickens and other small farm animals that had turned up dead, their small bodies torn apart. Then it had escalated to family pets. Finally, a small child had been found, and the local police were at a loss as to what was happening. There were no footprints of any kind. It was obvious that some animal was to blame, but where were the damned footprints? Sam and Dean had shown up and found the location where the child had been found. The EMF had gone off the chart so they knew it was their kind of gig. All of the events had happened around the same area so they set about staking out the area in hopes of sending whatever back to where it had come. Sam hadn't been getting much sleep as per usual so Dean had taken the first watch. About 2 hours in the EMF had started going off so Dean woke Sam up. It didn't take long for the spirit to show itself. Once it did it became apparent that they were dealing with something that could be destroyed with consecrated rounds. With Dean as the bait, they were able to trap the huge catlike thing and Sam sent it back to hell, or wherever, with a perfect shot to the heart.

By the time they were ready to head back to town, Dean was dog tired, so he reluctantly agreed to let Sam drive. The plan was to get a little sleep before the big sleep to come at the motel. And for Sam to not fall asleep and drive off the road. About 20 minutes after falling asleep, Dean was awakened by screeching tires and a loud thud. When his eyes finally focused he could see the dead deer lying in the middle of the narrow road. He had jumped out of the car to find the passenger side bumper smashed and the headlight broken and dangling from the socket. The argument that followed was one you would expect and had ended with the slam of the motel door.

Once Dean thought about it, the damage really wasn't that bad and could easily be fixed with a trip to the junkyard and parts supply store. Now the guilt was starting the creep in and all he could picture was the hurt look in his baby brother's eyes. Of course, he didn't care more about the Impala than he did about Sam. He didn't care about anything more than he did about Sam. He'd set things right once Sam returned. Sam would forgive him, again, they would fix the car and get the hell out of dodge. But, for right now, Dean was tired. He could barely thing straight, so he collapsed on his bed. He figured Sam would return soon and fall into his own bed and when they both woke up, he would apologize and everything would be back to normal. So he shut his eyes and was asleep instantly. What Dean didn't realize was it would be a lot longer than he thought before he would be able to apologize. If he ever saw Sam again that is.


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm headed for the diner to grab a bite to eat. I can't believe what just happened. Dean basically said he cares more for the Impala than me. I know it isn't true, that he's just blowing off steam, but it still hurts. I'll grab a bite to eat and then I'll come back. Dean should be asleep by then. I'll get some sleep and when we wake up this afternoon, things will have cooled off and everything will be back to normal._

_Wait, did I just hear my name being called? I look towards the woods. There it is again! Someone is calling my name. I start for the woods in the direction it sounds like the voice is coming from. I know that something isn't right here but I can't seem to stop myself. I reach the edge of the trees and although I don't want to enter, I do. I come into a small clearing and I see a form huddled on the ground. Whoever it is, they are calling me, asking me to help them. I come forward and reach out my hand. All at once a hand snaps out and grabs my wrist. I fall to the ground, white hot pain searing into my wrist and running up my arm. My head feels like it is going to explode from the pain. My sight begins to blur and all I can think of is that I am never going to see Dean again!  
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Sam awoke to complete darkness. Wherever he was, it was cold. His thin tee shirt provided no protection from the cold. He wondered where his jacket was. He had it on when he left Dean in the motel room. Dean! Did he realize that Sam was missing yet? Did he care? Of course he did. He was just mad. And tired. That's why he went off the way he did. He always had a short temper when he was lacking sleep. And it was Sam's fault that he wasn't getting enough sleep. Sam hadn't been sleeping well which meant Dean was worried. And a worried Dean was a Dean who didn't sleep either. Sam shook his head to clear the thoughts from his mind which brought on a wave of dizziness. Which brought on a wave of nausea. He took several deep breaths until the nausea subsided. He didn't know how long he had been here. Didn't know how long he had been out. Was it hours, or days?

Sam tried to remember what had happened but the memory was just there at the edge of his mind. He remembered storming out of the motel room. He remembered starting for the diner down the road, but something across the street had caught his attention. Was someone calling his name? God! He wished he could remember. The last thing he did remember was crossing the street and entering the woods. After that everything was a blank. And then he woke up in this cold, dark place. Where the hell was he!! He tried to get up but found he was unable to. He didn't think he was tied down, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get up. It was like his legs weren't receiving the message his brain was sending them. He began to feel extremely weak, undoubtedly from the strain of trying to rise. His eyelids became very heavy, and try as he might, he couldn't keep himself from sinking into darkness once again.

Across the dark chamber from where Sam now lay unconscious it watched, relishing the confusion and fear it sensed in the young man it had brought here. It sensed that this boy was special. Had sensed him when he first entered the town. It knew that what it could leech from him was so much more than it had gotten from the others. His essence was so pure and bright it nearly blinded it, but it couldn't look away. Finally it moved towards the boy. It laid its cold hand on the side of his face. The boy tensed and began to groan as if in pain. Sweat formed on his forehead despite the coldness of the chamber. It pulled it's hand away quickly, not wanting to hurt the boy too soon, the boy relaxing the instant the hand left his face. It left the chamber only to enter another one. It had many preparations to make. The leeching process took several days, and if done just right, it knew it could live for years on this special boys gift. It looked forward to the pain it would inflict. Fed off of it actually. But all in good time. There was plenty of pain to come; plenty of feeding. And when the boy had been fully drained, he would die. Just like the others.


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, so this is a repost of this chapter as when I posted it originally it was totally messed up! Don't know what happened, the word document was fine. **

**This story was my first fanfiction, my first thing I've written period. This is a completed story and I will be posting 1 to 2 chapters a day. Enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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When Dean woke up the first thing he noticed was how quiet it was. He had expected to hear Sam's soft snore coming from the other bed, but he heard nothing. He cracked one eye and peered at the clock. It was 3:30 in the afternoon. He looked over at Sam's bed to find it empty and not slept in. Surely Sam had come back by He had practically handed Sam over to whoever, or whatever held him now. All because of a stupid car! He would gladly push the Impala off a cliff if it meant keeping Sam safe. The problem was, the last thing he said to Sam implied just the opposite. Dean laid his head in his hands, and as hard as he tried, he was unable to stop the tears that When Dean woke up the first thing he noticed was how quiet it was. He had expected to hear Sam's soft snore coming from the other bed, but he heard nothing. He cracked one eye and peered at the clock. It was 3:30 in the afternoon. He looked over at Sam's bed to find it empty and not slept in. Surely Sam had come back by now. Maybe he had fallen asleep on top of the covers and had already gotten up. Maybe he was down the street at the diner getting them something to eat. He reached for his cell and dialed Sam's number. After 3 rings Sam's voicemail picked up instructing him to leave a message.

"Dammit Sam! Pick up!" Dean cried.

He got out of bed and went to the bathroom. When he came out he tried Sam's cell again with the same results.

"Crap! Sam, where are you!?"

Panic was starting to build and a sense of urgency pushed Dean to action. He was out the door in 5 minutes and made his way to the motel office. The bell on the door rang as Dean entered the office. Beth, the woman who had checked them in a few days earlier emerged from the back room. She smiled when she saw Dean.

"What can I do for you Mr. Mackey?" she asked.

"Well, I was wondering if you have seen my brother today?" Dean replied.

"Um, I saw him this morning around 6:30. He was heading towards downtown, well as close to a downtown as this place has" she added. "It's strange though." she continued.

"What's strange?" Dean inquired.

"Well, as I said, he was heading towards town, but then he stopped and started to look across the road to the woods." she said, pointing to the thick growth of trees.

"Could you see what he was looking at?"

"I didn't see anything, but it seemed as though he was listening to something. But I didn't hear anything. Anyway, he went off towards the woods and entered about where that small break in the trees is. I didn't see him after that."

"You're sure you haven't seen him since?" Dean asked, a ball of fear building in his stomach.

"No, I haven't. Mr. Mackey, do you think something has happened to your brother?" Beth asked.

"It's not like Sam, that's his name, to just disappear for this long without checking in with me. I mean, we had an argument this morning so he said he was going to go for a walk, but we have arguments all the time. We were out pretty late so I just went to bed and fell asleep. I woke up a little while ago and he hadn't returned." Dean exclaimed.

"Oh God! I hope it isn't happening again!" Beth cried halfway under her breath.

Dean was taken aback by this. "What don't you hope is happening again?" Dean asked, panic gripping his heart in a vice.

"The disappearances! 3 of them in the last 5 years! Oh my God, please don't let it be happening again!" she despaired.

Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. Other people had disappeared. Three in the last five years. Not a big number for a bigger city, but for a small town like Harriston SD, it was significant. He was terrified to ask the next question, but knew he had to.

"Did they ever find these other missing people?" he asked, panic evident in his voice.

"Yes, they did" Beth responded, not able to look Dean in the eye.

"But?" Dean queried.

"But, they didn't make it" was the simple answer.

Dean's world came crashing down around him, and he found his legs could no longer hold him up. He found a chair and sunk into it. It was his fault. All his fault. He was supposed to protect Sam. That was his job. But he had screwed up. He had practically handed Sam over to whomever, or whatever held him now. All because of a stupid car! He would gladly push the Impala off a cliff if it meant keeping Sam safe. The problem was, the last thing he said to Sam implied just the opposite. Dean laid his head in his hands, and as hard as he tried, he was unable to stop the tears that were suddenly falling freely down his face.

"Oh Sammy, what have I done!?" he cried.

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**So, hope that was better to all who read this before and were going 'HUH?' Sorry about that!**

**Cindy.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey all! Here is chapter 4. Thanks for all of the reviews. You guys rock! Things are about to get um...quite painful for Sam! I hope you all don't mind. I am going to try and post two chapters a day. I'll post one in the morning and one in the evening. Thanks for reading!**

**Cindy**

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The pain was overwhelming and brought Sam out of the blackness with jolt. He no longer was lying on the cold ground, but was tied down to what felt like a stone slab. He couldn't lift his head as his neck was secured to the slab by a piece of rope. The rope cut into his flesh and he was sure he could feel something warm trickling down and dripping onto the slab below. His arms were outstretched to the sides and also secured with ropes, as were his legs. Although he couldn't lift his head to see, he knew that he was now clothed only in his boxers. The cold penetrated his skin making him shiver uncontrollably.

At first it was hard to determine where the pain was coming from. Once the cobwebs cleared from his head however, he was able to determine that it was coming from numerous spots all over his body. The worst of it was focused in his wrists and the bottoms of his feet. Suddenly he caught movement to his right. He strained his head as far as he could, causing even more pain to erupt in his neck. Finally he was able to make out a dark form nearing the slab he was bound to. He couldn't see any features as they were hidden beneath a large hood. A clawlike hand reached for him but he was helpless to pull away. The hand came to rest on his chest and an immediate red hot pain tore through him, radiating out through his whole body. His back bucked up from the slab violently.

Sam panicked as he tried to take a breath but found he couldn't. When he thought he could take no more and surely he would die, he was released from the pain by the hand being removed from his chest. He started to gasp, trying to pull in as much air as his deprived lungs could hold. As his vision cleared, he could make out the dark figure leaning over him.

He heard a low, raspy voice whisper into his ear, "Be still now Samuel, it is over. For now."

"Why are you doing this to me?" Sam asked in a barely audible voice.

"I need your essence, your life force per say, to survive." it hissed. "The others before you could only sustain me for a few short years. But you, you're different. In all the ages that I have been in existence, I have never found one so pure of spirit. And your other special gifts, along with your purity will keep me alive for years to come. Many, many years. Already with the small amount of blood and essence I have extracted, I feel more alive than I have for 100 years!" it cried joyously.

Sam tried to speak but found he could no longer form any words, his mind starting to drift back to the blackness that had held him a short time before. Once he was lost again in darkness, the thing crept away to a small table, only to return to Sam's side carrying a small knife and chalice. With the knife, it cut into an already existing wound in Sam's right wrist until a trickle of blood started to flow. It held the chalice under the wound, catching the life giving fluid as it flowed. Once the trickled had slowed, it moved to another wound in the bottom of Sam's right foot, repeating the process. Then again to his left foot and wrist. Once the four points of purity, as it called them, were bled and the chalice filled, it breathed in the sweet, coppery aroma of the fresh blood. Then it slowly began to drink. It drank until the chalice was empty. It replaced the knife and chalice on the table then returned to Sam's side. Holding it's hands a few inches above Sam's body, it began an inaudible chant. A soft glow began to eminate from Sam's chest and stomach. His breathing became more shallow, his skin more pale. He started to softly whimper, and then became silent. As the thing ended its chant, the glow disappeared. The dark figure seemed to stand a little straighter, move a little quicker. It leaned down to Sam's ear and quietly whispered "Sleep now Samuel. In five days you will be free!"

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**That's it until tomorrow! I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know. Take care all!**

**Cindy.**


	5. Chapter 5

**I am overwhelmed with the response to this story! You all rock! I meant to post this chapter this morning when I got home from work but we are having some pretty nasty weather here in Montana. I couldn't get a connection for my internet. I will try to post another chapter later tonight. Thanks for reading and reveiwing!**

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Dean didn't know how long he sat there, lost in fear and the guilt of knowing he was responsible for Sam's disappearance. A soft touch to his arm made him look up to find Beth looking at him with sympathy in her eyes. He brushed her had away gently and stood up.

"Knock it off!" Dean thought to himself, " this isn't helping Sam so quit feeling sorry for yourself!"

He looked again at Beth, trying to regain the composure he lost by crying in front of her.

Beth looked at him compassionately and stated "It will be okay Mr. Mackey. This probably doesn't have anything to do with the past disappearances. The last one was two years ago!"

"Well" Dean retorted, "That's just not how Sammy's and my luck runs. If there is trouble, it will find us. Oh, and you can call me Dean." he added.

"Um, okay Dean, you need to call the police." she replied.

"NO! No police!" Dean exclaimed. "Sam hasn't been missing for 24 hours yet. They won't do anything until he has been. I'm going to find him myself!"

Beth shook her head sadly and replied "Do you think that is a good idea? The police know how to handle these things."

"No offense, but they didn't save the others." was Deans reply. "And yeah, it's the only way. Look, it's kinda what we do. We investigate things. I'll have an easier time if I don't have to waste time talking to the police."

"Okay" Beth replied "against my better judgement I agree with you. But if you don't have any clues by tomorrow you need to consider going to the police. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay. I'll consider it. But I am going to find Sam. I am going to save him!" Dean said defiantly. "Now, I need to know everything you can tell me about these other people. How long were they missing before they were found? Were they locals or were they visitors? What condition were they found in? Anything at all will help me find Sam!"

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Sam awoke with a start, the latest nightmare abruptly lifting him out of the darkness. The nightmares were always the same. He was searching for Dean, wondering why Dean had left him. He could barely see through the darkness. Then gnarled, cold hands would reach from every direction, grabbing his arms, legs, clothing and hair. Anything they could get a hold of. Each touch brought excruciating pain. He tried to break free from their grasp but was too weak. He would wake up gasping for air, his heart racing at a dangerous speed. He would sweat profusely which when combined with the cold air made him feel like he was submerged in a glacial lake. He understood that he was in danger of hypothermia and that once that started he wouldn't have much time left. He knew that he couldn't keep this up much longer. His body was getting weaker by the minute. He had not had anything to eat since the night before he was taken, and had only had the small amount of water the creature had offered him. He prayed that Dean would find him in time, although he was running out of hope at a quick pace.

The creature, or whatever it was, returned frequently, poking and cutting at his skin. It would pace around him chanting indiscernable words and would touch him on different places, especially his chest, head and feet. Each touch brought more pain, weakening him further. The frequent visits were a deterrent to sleep, which on one hand kept him from the nightmares he experienced, but on the other hand kept him in this waking nightmare that was so much worse. There were times when the pain was overwhelming that he had wished for death, but had pushed those thoughts away as quickly as possible. What would happen to Dean if he found Sam dead. No! He had to survive. For Dean. He had to find a way to be strong. To endure the pain. He had lived through extreme pain before, although nothing like this. But he had to have faith. Faith that Dean would find him in time. Faith that Dean would save him once again. He had to have faith because right now that was all he had.

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**Well, there it is. More to come later! Please let me know what you think.**

**Cindy.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks all! You guys are great!!! Now, it was brought to my attention that Chapter 3 was a bit messed up. I'm not quite sure what happened because the word document was fine. I have now reposted Ch. 3 and it looks fine now. I will be more careful in the future to make sure that posting went alright. Sorry for the inconvenience. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Take care all!**

**Cindy**

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_"Now, I need to know everything you can tell me about these other people. How long were they missing before they were found? Were they locals or were they visitors? What condition were they found in? Anything at all will help me find Sam!"_

"Well, I think I can help you with that." Beth said. "My friend is a deputy, and well, he pretty much tells me everything. All three were visitors. Two of them were actually staying here when they disappeared. But I guess that isn't much of a coincidence since we are the only motel around. Anyway, it was one woman and two men. They were found 6 days after they disappeared. They hadn't been dead more than a day."

Beth stopped when she saw Dean pale at the mention of death.

"It's okay Beth, I need to hear this" Dean said.

"Okay, sorry, anyway the sheriffs department thought maybe it was satan worshippers or something because all of the bodies had the same wounds and marks on them." Beth replied.

"Do you know what these wounds were?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, Mark said that they all had deep cuts on their wrists and the bottom's of their feet. They had small burns in a circular pattern on their stomachs, and they had puncture wounds on their chests and upper thighs. They also had numerous shallow cuts and bruises covering their bodies, and severe rope burns on their throats, wrists and ankles," Beth said sadly.

"Okay," Dean said, "It sounds like maybe some kind of ritual or something. Did the cops ever find any truth to the satan worshipper theory?"

"No, nothing. And the last death was over 2 years ago. We thought it was over!" Beth cried.

"Yeah, well, it's not." Dean said.

"One more thing Dean. Mark said the coroners office couldn't determine an exact cause of death. None of the wounds, although serious enough, were life threatening. They did find traces of some sort of poison in their systems, but not enough to kill them. The official cause of death was reported as serious blood loss and exposure."

Dean dropped his head into his hands and took a deep breath. This was bad. Really bad.

"Thank you Beth. This is going to help me a lot." Dean exclaimed.

"How is this going to help you Dean?" Beth asked.

"I have a friend who can help with research, see if any other cases come up that match these. It's a start," Dean replied. "It has to help, because the way I see it, if all these people were found in 6 days and had been dead 1 day, Sam has only 4 days to live!"

Dean entered his motel room and sank down onto his bed. He couldn't believe this was happening. He didn't want to think about what Sam was going through, but he couldn't get the picture out of his head. All he could see in his mind was Sam tied down, being cut and burned and who the hell knows what else! He couldn't even imagine the fear and pain that Sam must be feeling. He had to get him back. Failure was not an option. But he needed help. He couldn't do this alone. He picked up his cell and punched in a number. As the phone was picked up on the other end, Dean quickly sputtered,

"Bobby! I need your help. Sam's been taken. I don't know by who or what, but he's in trouble. Bobby, we only have 4 days to find him or he's dead!"

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**Okay, there it is. I know it was short, but I hope it satisfied. Until tomorrow!**

**Cindy.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Here is the next chapter for you all. I hope it is satisfactory!**

**Cindy**

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Bobby Singer's heart dropped into his stomach. He had never heard Dean this distraught before. This must really be bad for him to have so much panic in his voice. He knew that Dean lived for Sam, breathed for Sam, and if anything happened to Sam, he would never be the same, if he survived at all. He also knew that Sam felt the same way about Dean. He had never seen such a bond between two people. It was like Sam and Dean were extensions of each other. Dean was the stubborn, in your face, smart ass protector who would do anything and everything to keep his brother safe. Sam was equally stubborn, as well as headstrong, but had an innocence and sensitivity about him that made you want to protect him. Not that Sam couldn't take care of himself. Both brothers were equally adept in a hunt. Dean was more of a fighter, and Sam was the thinker. The best way Bobby could describe them was they were two halves of one whole. Something happens to one, the other suffers also. Bobby had come to care about Sam and Dean as if they were his own sons and when something bad happened to one of them, he felt the pain a parent would feel in that situation.

Fighting back against his own fear and panic, Bobby calmly instructed Dean to relay to him the events of the past few days. As Dean began to speak, Bobby listened intently, jotting down the information he would need for research. His heart broke as Dean described the various wounds that the previous victims had suffered. Now, Sam was enduring the same tortures, and if they didn't find him soon, he would be lost to them forever.

As Dean finished Bobby softly said "We'll find him Dean. I am gonna find out what evil bastard has him, and we are going to hunt it down and kill it!"

"It's all my fault Bobby! I gave Sam over to whatever has him as sure as I am sitting here!" Dean cried.

"Now you listen to me and you listen good! THIS IS NOT YOUR FAULT! I'm willing to bet that whatever has Sam would have gotten him no matter what! You need to get a grip and stop blaming yourself!" Bobby yelled. "Now, when was the last time you ate anything Dean?" he asked.

"That doesn't matter." Dean said flatly.

"It most certainly does matter Dean! Sam needs you alert and healthy. Now you get some food and rest. I'm gonna hit my books. I'll call you as soon as I find something!" Bobby said as he hung up.

Dean knew Bobby was right. If he was going to be any help to Sam, he needed to keep his strength up. So he grabbed his phone and the laptop and headed for the diner. He took a quick glance across the road to where Beth had seen Sam enter the woods. He had a sudden need to go there. He needed to see where Sam had gone, see if there were any tracks he could follow. He headed across the road and entered the woods. About fifty feet in he came to a small clearing. He walked to the center of the clearing and noticed the grass and other plants had been crushed here.

"This must be where Sam was taken from" he mumbled, goose bumps breaking out on his arms.

He started to walk further in when he suddenly kicked something in the grass. He squatted down and started feeling through the grass. His hand closed over the object and he pulled it up from the ground. It was Sam's cell phone. Looking down at the phone, tears began to well in Dean's eyes. His only possible link to Sam now lay in his hands. There would be no tracking him using the phone now. Dean debated whether to try to find a trail, but soon discovered there was none. Whatever had Sam had left no evidence of it's passing. It must have carried Sam out of the clearing. Dean turned around and left the woods, crossing the road quickly, unaware that he was being watched. He headed for the diner, intent on getting a quick bite to eat and doing as much research as he could on the laptop. He was confident Bobby would find something useful, he had never let them down before.

As he was walking towards the diner, Dean couldn't help but think about how the people he passed were completely oblivious to what was out there in the world. They would never believe him if he told them. He watched a young mother with her two small children and imagined her telling them not to be afraid of the dark, that monsters weren't real. She didn't know how wrong she was. He smiled at the old man sitting on the bench in front of the drug store who winked and smiled in return. He entered the diner and decided he would get his order to go so he could do his research in the privacy of his motel room. Once he received his food, he headed back for the motel. He just couldn't be around people right now. He needed to think without distractions. Sam needed him and he had no time for anything else but the task in front of him. The panic he had been holding at bay began to surface again as he couldn't help but think that Sam was running out of time.

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**Okay, you know the drill. Please let me know what you think! Reviews are love!**

**Cindy.**


	8. Chapter 8

**This is a VERY short chapter. I apologize for that! The other site that I originally posted on it seemed longer! What can I say. How about if I post 3 chapters throughout the day instead of two? Will that make up for it? I hope so. Well, I'm off to bed as I work nights and just got home. I will post chapter 9 when I wake up and then chapter 10 later on this evening. I want to wish all of you a very happy and SAFE New Years! Take care.**

**Cindy.**

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Sam couldn't remember a time when he wasn't in pain. It was now his constant companion. The creature returned every few hours to repeat its ritual. Sam didn't know how much blood he had lost, but based upon how weak he felt, it must be substancial. But the blood loss wasn't what troubled him the most. And it wasn't the fact that despite the cold, he had all but stopped shivering, which meant hypothermia was setting in. What troubled him most was he felt as though his very soul was slowly being ripped from his body. Every time the creature touched him, he felt like he lost a little bit more of himself. The physical pain was excruciating, but the emotional pain was unbearable. He now wondered if Dean did find him in time to save him, how much of his soul would still be intact. Would he still be Sam, or would he be merely a shell with nothing that resembled his old self remaining? Could a person live without a soul? And if they could, what sort of person would they be? He came to the conclusion that without a soul, he was better off dead. The sorrow of knowing what his death would do to Dean brought fresh tears to his eyes. He sobbed uncontrollably until through sheer exhaustion he succumbed to the darkness once again, falling into a fitful sleep where the nightmares waited to once again assault his fragile mind.

Watching from the shadows, the creature smiled coldly. The ritual was working, although it had to perform it more frequently than with the others. The boy was stronger than it had anticipated. The bond between he and his brother was great. But it was not concerned. The brother would not find them before the leeching was complete. It had kept watch over him when it wasn't with the boy, and felt confident it would be left to its task uninterrupted. If by chance the brother did find it's lair, it would be forced to speed up the process of extracting the boy's soul. This would not give it the ultimate outcome it craved, but it would still give it many more years of life before it was forced to find another pure soul to steal. It wanted nothing more than to drink more of the boy's sweet blood, but for now it would let him sleep, trapped in the nightmare it had planted in his mind. The boy was in for a long, torturous night as the next and final stage of the ritual would begin soon. It slowly made it's way out of the chamber, pausing to steal one more glance at the boy, delighting in his pitiful moans. But now it needed to go. It had many preparations to make for the nights festivities.

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**That's it for now. As I said, it is very short. More to come later though! Please let me know what you think. You have all been so kind so far. It makes me smile!!**

C**indy**


	9. Chapter 9

**Well, I'm awake and as promised, here is another chapter for you. I hope it satisfies. Will post one more later tonight. Enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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Dean awoke with a start, instantly furious with himself for falling asleep. He had sat up most of the night researching anything and everything he could think of to find Sam. He researched any number of creatures and legends that could possibly leave the kind of wounds and marks that had been inflicted on the victims. He had found nothing. This was Sam's forte. Sam would have found something within minutes. "God! This is so messed up!" he thought wearily.

Then, finally the call he had been waiting for came. Bobby had found something! He needed to do a little more research, but he was sure he knew what they were dealing with. He hadn't gone into specifics, but had assured Dean he would be there by noon. He had told Dean to get some rest, that they were in for a long day. Dean had hung up and laid down on his bed to take a quick nap.

Dean looked at the clock and nearly had a stroke. It was 10:30! He had been asleep for nearly 7 hours. He had slept almost the whole morning away! He admonished himself, reminding himself that for sure Sam wasn't sleeping comfortably on a soft mattress in a warm motel room. Sam was in the company of evil, suffering undeserved torture. It would be a long time before Dean forgave himself for this one. Still, he reminded himself, he needed to sleep and eat to be at the top of his game for Sam.

He got up from the bed and headed for the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. When he returned from the bathroom, he put on his boots and prepared to head to the diner for a quick breakfast. He should have enough time for that and then get back to the motel to wait for Bobby. He debated on whether to take the Impala, but the thought just brought back the argument that had started this whole ball rolling. He couldn't bring himself to drive her, not yet. Not until he had to.

He headed down the street to the diner intent on a quick bite, then back to the motel to meet Bobby. Once Bobby got there, they would go over the information he had found then they would hunt this son of a bitch down and kill it. "Hang on Sammy! Please hang on!" Dean prayed silently.

Dean decided that after breakfast, he would have enough time to head to the county records office to take a look at survey maps of the area. He hoped to find any place on the maps that something could take a victim and keep them for several days without detection. He didn't think Sam was being held in town, based on where the other bodies had been found and the chance of noise alerting someone to his whereabouts. No, whomever, or whatever had Sam would take him somewhere secluded, somewhere that it could perform its atrocities in peace. "God Sammy! I am so sorry!" Dean thought to himself, tears welling in his eyes. He refused to let them fall however. This was not a time for weakness.

As he was walking down the street, he noticed many of the same people he had observed on previous days. There was the young mother with her children at the park. The teenage couple in puppy love sitting under a tree kissing. And there was the old man sitting on the same bench in front of the drug store. Dean noticed that he was looking more chipper today and gave him a smile as he passed. The old man smiled back, tipping his hat.

Dean entered the diner and slid into the only booth available. The waitress approached and handed him a menu, at which he stated, "No menu, just bring me a cinnamon roll and cup of coffee, black, please."

The waitress smiled and returned to the kitchen to turn in his order. A few minutes later, she returned with his roll and coffee and placed them on the table in front of him. Although he didn't have much of an appetite, he began to eat and drink. He wondered if Sam had been fed or given any water to drink.

With every thought of Sam and the predicament he was in, Dean grew angrier and angrier. Nobody hurt his baby brother! NOBODY!! He slammed his fist down on the table with a loud bang, looking up to see several faces turned in his direction. He looked down at his plate and quickly finished his breakfast. He got up from the booth, paid for his meal, and hurried out the door. He would have just enough time to go grab some maps and get back to the motel to wait for Bobby.

A half an hour later Dean stepped into his motel room, quickly spreading the maps he had acquired over his bed. He was looking for any place that Sam could have been taken, mainly caves, caverns, or even old mining shafts. After about 20 minutes he heard a knock at the door and hurried over to answer it. At the threshold stood Bobby, several books and folders in his arms. "Dean," was his quick salutation.

"Bobby, thanks so much for coming! I'm just going over some maps of the area. What did you find out? Bobby, we gotta find Sam!" Dean spat out breathlessly.

"Whoa, slow down Dean!" was Bobby's reply. "Look, let's go over to the table. I've got some things to show you. I know what we're dealing with and it ain't good. We have to find this evil bastard and quick! The good news is, once we find it we can easily kill it! Well, kinda easily." Bobby added.

"So, what is it Bobby? What has Sam?" Dean queried.

"Okay, first of all, I didn't think these things existed anymore. They were thought to have been wiped out centuries ago. But, obviously one slipped through the cracks. We're dealing with a Jardoul. It's a soul stealer Dean," Bobby said gravely.

"I've never heard of a Jardoul. And what do you mean soul stealer?" Dean replied fearfully.

"You've never heard of it because they haven't been heard from for a long time. This one probably would have went unnoticed by the hunting community except it went and took a hunter. The Jardoul survives by stealing the souls of those pure of spirit. Like Sam. It also has another nasty little habit. It gets immediate renewal by drinking the blood of its victims. But this only lasts a short time, so during the process of removing the soul, the Jardoul must drink the blood every few hours. It bleeds the victims from what the ancient text calls the four points of purity; the wrists and the bottoms of the feet. It collects the blood using a silver knife and chalice. The blood must be collected from all four points and then drank all at once." Bobby said quietly.

"So, it's a friggin vampire for God's sake!" exclaimed Dean.

"Well, not exactly. Once it has taken the last bit of soul from the victim, it doesn't need the blood anymore," Bobby replied.

"Okay, so how does it remove the soul? Is that what all the marks on the bodies are for?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, the Jardoul makes several small cuts over the whole body as a way to weaken the victim. The actual extraction is done by the Jardoul placing its hands on the head and chest of the victim. The soul is removed a little at a time, over several days. It's a very painful experience for the victim. This is also when horrific nightmares are planted in the victims mind as a way to weaken them emotionally. Then, finally the last stage of the ritual is started. The Jardoul uses a red hot metal rod to burn the circular mark onto the victims stomach. It then takes four small wooden spikes that have been soaked in a poison, and stabs them into the victims below each collarbone and on the upper thighs. The spikes are left in so the poison can slowly enter the body. This enables the Jardoul to extract the remaining remnants of the soul. Once the process is complete, the victim is left to die, and then discarded." Bobby finished, a sadness in his voice that Dean had never heard before.

Dean, for his part, remained fairly calm. At least on the outside. On the inside he was steadily coming unraveled. To hear a step by step of what was happening to Sam was almost more than he could bear.

"So how do we find it? How do we kill it?" Dean asked, pure rage evident in his voice.

"We will find it underground. Usually a cave. Somewhere cold. It needs its victims cold. We kill it with a silver dagger to the heart. I just so happened to bring one that will work quite well. But we have to be careful. The Jardoul can take on human form and usually does. It has probably been watching you, keeping track of your progress. We don't want it to know that we have discovered what it is, where to find it. If it thinks we're too close, it will be forced to finish the ritual too quickly, and then there'll be no saving Sam!"

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**Okay, there's chapter 9. So, now we know what has Sam, but can he be saved? By the way, I made up the creature. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**Cindy.**


	10. Chapter 10

**As promised, here is the third post for the day! It is another short one, but a lot happens. I hope you enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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Sam knew the end was near. The creature had stepped up the torture and it was evident that it had more in store for him. He could feel his life slipping away second by second and he was helpless to do anything about it. He was so weak he could barely lift his fingers from the stone slab. He hadn't had anything to eat since before his abduction, and had been given only a small amount of water. What sleep he had was anything but restful, serving only to torture him further with the horrible nightmares. He could barely feel the throb anymore in his wrists and feet as his limbs had gone numb some time ago.

Sam had all but lost hope of ever seeing Dean again. He teetered on the edge of despair, the only thing keeping him from falling over the edge was the thought of Dean thinking he had given up. As much as he wanted to close his eyes and give in to the final darkness that called to him, he fought with every last bit of energy he had to stay alive, if only long enough to see Dean again, to let him know he fought with all he had.

Sam caught movement to his right and knew the creature was coming for him again. He wondered what new torture awaited him. As the creature neared, he saw through his blurring vision some sort of metal rod, ret hot on the end. His only hazy thought was "Oh man, this is gonna suck!" The creature held the rod above Sam's stomach and looking at him, lifted it's finger to it's lips and uttered a cold "Shhhhhhh" before jabbing the rod onto his tender flesh. Sam let out a tortured scream, but it came out more as a hoarse croak. Again and again the creature burned him, creating a circular design on his stomach. Finally the creature left Sam's side, leaving him writhing in pain and able to take only shallow gulps of air. As he started to pass out, the creature doused him with ice cold water, taking his breath away even more. Finally his breathing eased and he was able to speak.

"Please, no more." he begged, his voice but a whisper.

The creature cackled coldly and hissed his reply. "Oh there is more Samuel! The end is near and soon your soul will all be mine."

Sam could see the creature was holding something but he couldn't make out what it was. It appeared to be a small bowl with sticks in it. As his vision swam, he tried to focus on the bowl, but it was getting harder and harder for him to see. The creature reached into the bowl and retrieved one of the sticks. It laughed cruelly, then plunged the stick into Sam's chest just below his right collerbone. It then twisted the stick, pushing it further into Sam's body.

Sam knew this was it. This was what was going to kill him. He could finally take no more and began to drop away, welcoming the darkness, needing to escape the pain. But before he could escape, another stick was plunged into the left side of his chest, bringing him back to consciousness with a degree of pain he never knew existed. A hot, searing throb pulsated away from the wounds, as if something was seeping through his flesh and muscle. Was he being poisoned? On top of everything else, he was now being poisoned?

"Oh, this is just friggin super!" was his fevered thought.

Suddenly a new pain burst from his left thigh. Another stick had been driven in and twisted, releasing it's poison into Sam's body. Then another in his right thigh.

"Please! Please, stop! No, Dean!? Help me! I'm dying Dean! Where are you? Please help me…" Sam tried to scream, but the words would not leave his lips. He had no strength left to voice them. There was only pain. Nothing else existed. He was dying, and no one could stop it. He was never going to see Dean again. Dean would find him and would be crushed under the guilt Sam knew he would feel. Sam's last thought before the darkness claimed him was "I'm so sorry Dean. I tried. Please forgive me! Don't forget me." A single tear fell from Sam's eye, trailing down his fevered cheek. A single sentence escaped his lips, one which no one would have been able to hear.

"I love you Dean. Goodbye."

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**Poor Sammy! I sure do like to torture the boy! I hope you all enjoyed that chapter. More to come tomorrow. **

**Cindy.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Wow, you guys are great! I'm so glad everyone is enjoying my little story. Sam's in it deep but the cavalry is on the way! Go Dean and Bobby!!!!**

**Cindy.**

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"We gotta hurry Bobby!" Dean exclaimed "I don't think Sam has much more time. I can feel it."

Bobby looked at Dean, a knot of fear in his stomach. "I know what you mean, I feel it too," he replied.

They had spent the last hour pouring over the maps Dean had snagged, finally finding what they hoped was the location Sam was being held at. They had loaded up the Impala with everything they could think of that they would need once they found Sam. They had 'borrowed' all of the blankets from the motel room, and had made sure they had enough supplies in the first aid kit to handle any situation. They also made sure they had plenty of water on hand.

"We'll find him Dean," Bobby said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. Dean glanced at Bobby and nodded, grateful for the older mans presence.

"Bobby?" Dean asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer to his question.

"Yeah Dean?" Bobby replied.

"Once we kill this son of a bitch, will Sam's soul be returned to him? I mean, when we offed that Shtriga, the children it had robbed all returned to normal. Will that happen with Sam?"

The hopeful look in Dean's eyes broke Bobby's heart. Truth be told, Bobby didn't know if Sam would regain his soul, and he didn't know how to tell Dean that. He decided straight forward was the way to go.

"I really don't know Dean. It would make sense that once the usurper is killed, the soul would seek out it's original host, so to speak, but I just don't know." Bobby could hardly bare to look at the stricken look on Dean's face, but he didn't look away. "We'll deal with whatever happens Dean."

"He has to be okay Bobby. I can't...I can't lose him," Dean replied sadly.

Dean thought back to all the times he had nearly lost Sam. He had always gotten him back, always saved him, and this time wasn't going to be any different. He just prayed that Sam would be in one piece, that after this was all over, he would be whole. He shuddered at what would happen if Sam's soul were lost forever. He couldn't let it happen. Wouldn't let it happen.

Dean slammed the trunk of the Impala shut and glanced over to the woods across the road. Suddenly his breath caught in his throat, and he let out a sharp gasp.

"Dean, what's wrong!?" Bobby asked with a worried look on his face.

"No friggin way!" was Deans seething reply.

"What Dean?"

"It was the old man! Son of a bitch! All this time it was the old man!" Dean stormed.

"What are you talking about?" Bobby shouted.

"We gotta go! I'll explain, but we gotta go! NOW!!"

They loaded into the Impala and Dean tore out of the motel parking lot, spitting gravel out from his screeching tires. Bobby was holding on for dear life, and once his heart had gone back into his chest he looked at Dean. A look of sheer rage and determination was plastered on Dean's face. He raced down the road away from the town looking for the access road he and Bobby had found on the map. The access road that would take them to the unnamed caves they were sure held Sam.

"Okay, Dean, spill! What's going on?" Bobby queried, grabbing the dash when Dean abruptly turned onto the access road, barely slowing down.

"When I looked up I saw the old man standing at the edge of the trees. He was staring at us. Then he turned and went into the woods!" Dean exlaimed.

"Okay, what old man?" Bobby asked, completely lost as to where this was going.

"The old man that Sam and I kept seeing in town. He was always perched on the bench outside the drug store! Son of a bitch! Why didn't I see this before?" Dean stammered.

"Dean, you've completely lost me. What does some old man have to do with anything?"

"He's not an old man, he's the Jardoul!" Dean hollered. "Why didn't I see it before? When we first saw him, he looked like he was knocking on deaths door. But the last few days, he's looked better, rejuvenated! And always watching, smiling. Before, now that I think about it, he always seemed to be paying a lot of attention to Sam. I thought maybe Sam reminded him of someone!" Dean slammed his fist onto the steering wheel over and over again. "Bobby, it knows! It knows that we know what it is, where to find it!"

"Calm down Dean. We know where to find Sam. We'll save him," Bobby said, not quite sure if he believed it himself.

"Bobby, it's on it's way to kill Sam! It knows it can't finish the ritual so it's just gonna kill him!" Dean was near panic now, close to hyperventilating.

"Dean!" Bobby screamed, "Calm down, this isn't helping Sam. What good are we gonna do if you drive off the road? The cave shouldn't be much further. We'll find Sam and we'll kill that evil bastard that has him. Now calm down and drive!"

Dean took several deep breaths, hoping to keep his heart from bursting out of his chest. "That son of a bitch! I felt bad for him!" Dean cried, "All it was doing was stalking Sam, waiting for the right moment. And I provided that moment for it!"

"You didn't know Dean. How could you know?" asked Bobby.

"I shouldn't have let him leave. I should have protected him Bobby," Dean stated.

"Dean..."

"What Bobby!? It's not my fault? The hell it isn't!!" Dean hissed.

"No Dean, look, the cave." Bobby said, pointing up the side of the hill.

Dean slammed on the brakes and jammed the Impala into park. He was out of the car instantly, rushing to the trunk and opening it. Bobby met him at the trunk and they proceeded to pull out their weapons. This was war, and the enemy was going down. All they needed to do was find it, and they find Sam. "Hang on Sam. We're coming," Dean whispered to himself.

"Bobby, what if this isn't the place? What if we're wrong?" Dean asked fearfully.

"It's the right place Dean," was Bobby's simple reply.

"But what if it isn't? If we're wrong Bobby, then Sam's dead."

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**Well, one more chapter down. I hope it satisfied. As always, reviews make me happy! Take care all. More later.**

**Cindy.**


	12. Chapter 12

**This is probably the shortest chapter ever written in the history of storytelling! :) I'm so sorry, but I do think it is the shortest one in the story. I hope the quality makes up for the quantity. **

**Cindy.**

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Pain, white hot, tore through Sam's head, waking him with a jolt. He wasn't dead! How couldn't he be dead? He looked up but couldn't see anything, but from the pain he knew the creature had it's hand on his forehead.

"Samuel..." it hissed, "Welcome back! I hope you had a nice rest, because we have things to do!"

It lifted it's hand from Sam's head, the pain diminishing somewhat. Sam tried to speak but was too weak. He could sense an urgency in the creature. Something was wrong, and he had a sick, sinking feeling that things were going to get bad.

"Well, Samuel," the thing sneered, "it seems your brother and his friend have found us. I don't know how, but they have!" Sam's heart leapt in his chest. Dean had found him! He was going to make it.

Suddenly a piercing pain tore into his stomach. Although he couldn't see, he was sure he had just been stabbed. The creature then laid it's hands on Sam's chest, the pain tearing through him in waves.

"Hurry Dean, please!" was Sam's silent prayer.

The creature had lost, and now it was going to kill him. The pain grew in intensity, Sam feeling like he was on fire. He felt as though he would burst into flames at any moment.  
He tried to scream, but no sound came out. He tried and tried. He had to somehow alert Dean to his whereabouts. The pain was overtaking him, and still he tried. Suddenly, he found his voice and a scream burst from him, echoing through the chambers. He screamed until the pain finally became too much. He started to shut down and his last thought before the nothingness came was, "I'm here Dean. I'm here."

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**Well, that's it for now. More chapters tomorrow! Thanks for reading.**

**Cindy.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey there. Another short chapter. Sorry, I guess when I first started writing I was just happy to get anything writted! :) I hope you like this chapter. I am hoping everything posts okay as we are in the middle of a huge snowstorm. Five foot drifts, zero visibility. Yikes!! Anyway, enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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Dean and Bobby entered the cave, sweating and panting from the climb up the hill.

"Shit Bobby! How are we gonna get Sam down to the Impala?" Dean asked.

"We'll figure that out when the time comes. First, we have to find him." Bobby replied.

"Yeah, that ought to be easy!" Dean exclaimed, shining his flashlight down the dark tunnel before him.

"So, do you think we'll luck out and have a straight shot at it?" Bobby queried.

"Not a chance! That's just not how Winchester luck runs," Dean replied.

"Well, we'll deal with that later. Let's get a move on," Bobby quipped.

They headed down the passageway, flashlights on and weapons at the ready. They didn't speak, and walked as quietly as they could. They listened intently for any sound that might lead them to Sam. So far, they had not found any other passageways, so they knew that at least for now, they were on the right track. They walked for nearly half an hour when suddenly they emerged into a small chamber. The chamber was slightly illuminated by two small torches stuck into the wall. There were two exits leading out of the chamber.

"Well, we figured it wasn't going to be easy." Dean said under his breath.

He and Bobby began a search of the chamber, hoping to find any clues as to which exit to take.

"Over here Dean!" cried Bobby.

Dean made his way over to where Bobby was crouched down, shining his light on what Bobby had found.

"Clothes. Three sets by the look's of it." Bobby said, picking through the piles with the end of his rifle.

Dean shone his light along the cave wall in either direction, his beam falling on another pile of what appeared to be clothing. He strode over and crouched down, Bobby following behind. He reached down and picked up the top item, turning it over in his hands.

"It's Sam's jacket," he stated, dropping his chin to his chest and taking a deep breath.

"Well, at least we know we're in the right place," Bobby stated.

"Okay, which passageway?" Dean asked, looking from one to the other. As if on cue, a pain filled scream tore from the opening to the left causing Dean and Bobby to jump in surprise.

"Sam!!" Dean screamed, grabbing his gun and rushing for the passageway, Bobby right on his heels. The scream seemed to go on forever, then abruptly stopped. "Hang on Sam! We're coming!" Dean screamed frantically.

He could see a dim light up ahead and picked up speed. What he saw when he entered the chamber nearly stopped his heart. Sam was tied to a stone slab, covered in blood, and he didn't appear to be breathing!

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**Well, they found Sam. Now, are they gonna get him out of there breathing and in one piece? You'll find out later when I post another chapter. Thanks for reading.**

**Cindy.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Thanks guys! Your comments make me very happy! This chapter is a little bit longer than the last. I hope you enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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"SAM! No!!!" Dean started toward Sam, suddenly noticing a knife protruding from his side.

As he neared, the Jardoul appeared from a darkened alcove. It grabbed the knife and roughly yanked it from Sam's body. A small moan escaped Sam's lips, but he did not waken.

"You son of a bitch!! Get away from my brother!" Dean snarled.

Bobby, who had entered behind Dean, sank to the ground and proceeded to make his way around the chamber, taking advantage of the Jardoul's attention being focused on Dean.

Dean started to move forward once more, but halted when the Jardoul quickly held the knife high above Sam's heart.

"Stay away, or Samuel dies!" it hissed.

"I said get away from my brother, you freak!!" Dean shouted, and suddenly lunged forward, smashing into the creature with all of his weight.

The Jardoul staggered momentarily, but quickly found it's footing. It sank it's gnarled fingers into Dean's shoulder, sending red hot waves of pain shooting through him.  
Dean gasped and sank to his knees, his vision blurring from the pain. The Jardoul squeezed harder and the pain intensified. Just when Dean thought he would black out, he heard a terrifying screech and the hand was abruptly pulled from his shoulder. He collapsed onto the floor of the cave, gasping for air. He rolled onto his back and looked up to see the Jardoul clawing at it's chest, the silver dagger Bobby had brought sticking out from it.

Bobby rushed to Dean's side and pulled him up from the ground. The Jardoul continued to screech and then collapsed to the ground. A glowing blue white light poured from the wound in it's chest and rose to the roof of the cave, then disappeared. Once the light had left, the Jardoul let out one more screech then fell silent. It collapsed in upon itself, then turned to dust, leaving only it's cloak behind.

Dean ran to Sam's side, followed closely by Bobby. He gently took Sam's face into his hands, searching for a sign that Sam was still alive.

"Sam? Sammy! You gotta wake up for me little brother!" Dean cried. He felt Sam's neck for a pulse, and breathed a sigh of relief when he found one, weak but still there.

"Dean, we've gotta get him out of here!" Bobby said, already cutting the ropes from Sam's ankles.

Dean proceeded to cut the rope from Sam's neck, tears welling in his eyes at the sight of the raw, bleeding flesh beneath. He then cut the ropes from Sam's wrists, noticing the oozing wounds there. Rage swelled in him and he wished that he could kill the creature all over again, but slower. He ran to Sam's injured side, ripping a piece from his teeshirt and pressing it onto the wound.

Bobby, in the meantime, pulled each poisoned spike from Sam's body. Through it all, Sam didn't make a sound. Dean hurried back to Sam's face, gently tapping his cheek trying to wake him up. Although it was freezing in the cave, Sam was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his tangled hair sticking to his forehead.

"Sammy, come on, open your eyes. I need you to open your eyes now! Please Sammy!" Dean pleaded.

Sam's eyes slowly opened and Dean leaned over him to let him know he was there. "Dean? Are you there?" Sam whispered.

"I'm right here Sammy, I've got you little brother." Dean cried, tears falling freely from his eyes. He grabbed Sam's hand, noticing that Bobby had already bandaged the cut on his wrist and was now working on the other one.

"Dean? I can't see you. Where are you?" Sam cried, his voice barely audible.

"I'm right here Sam!" Dean said, pulling Sam's hand to his cheek.

"It's so dark! Why is it so dark?" Sam pleaded.

"Shhh Sammy, were going to get you out of here, okay?" Dean replied, giving Bobby a worried glance, Bobby returning the look with his own worried eyes.

"M'kay Dean."

Sam's eyes slowly closed and he fell into a deep sleep. Bobby pulled a blanket from his duffel then he and Dean carefully wrapped Sam in it.

"How are we going to get him out of here Bobby?" Dean questioned.

"We can lay him on the other blanket, then each take an end. I would say we could carry him over our shoulders taking turns, but I'm worried about the stab wound in his stomach. It's just too risky." Bobby replied.

Bobby laid the blanket on the ground, then he and Dean gently lifted Sam from the slab and placed him on it. They then tied knots in each end for hand holds, gathered their supplies, then lifted Sam from the ground and began the exhausting journey out of the cave. When they entered the first chamber, they gently set Sam down and Dean collected his clothes from the floor where they still lay. He stuffed them into his duffel, picked Sam up again and headed down the passageway to freedom.

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**Okay, so Sam is still alive and the Jardoul is dead. But, this story still has a bit to go. Hmmmmm, wonder what could possibly go wrong. Catch you all tomorrow.**

**Cindy.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Once again I have a short chapter. Maybe I will post three chapters today. I have a total of 23 chapters so I think I will. Thanks for all of the lovely reviews. I am so glad you are all enjoying my little story. Anyway, back to the boys!**

**Cindy.**

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It had taken Dean and Bobby nearly an hour to make their way out of the cave. They'd stopped several times to check on Sam. Small tremors had started to wrack his body, either from the poison, loss of blood, or just plain shock. Dean didn't know which, but it worried him to no end. And why couldn't Sam see? Was it a consequence of the trauma Sam had been through? Was it temporary? Dean was going out of his mind, and every time he looked at Sam, it just got worse.

Sam was almost completely devoid of any color. Dean had never seen anyone this pale who was still alive. He repeatedly attempted to wake Sam, rewarded only with a small glimpse of his hazel eyes when he was successful. Sam would quickly fall back into unconsciousness, fitfully moaning and sometimes crying out in pain when he was accidentally jostled.

Dean's fear grew as Sam's temperature rose. Clearly, some of Sam's many wounds had become infected and the infection was spreading through his body at what seemed an alarming pace. Dean desperately wanted Sam to wake up long enough to drink some water. It didn't take an expert to see he was seriously dehydrated. His eyes were sunken, and the darkness around them stood out in stark contrast to his white skin. His lips were cracked and bloody. They needed to get him to a hospital fast! He was in dire condition, and fading fast.

Dean and Bobby made their way down the hill as quickly as they could, cringing each time one of them slipped and Sam let out a pained cry. They finally reached the Impala, and gently placed Sam in the back seat. They lifted his knees and placed their duffels under them to keep them elevated. They dumped their gear into the trunk then Dean climbed into the back seat, placing Sam's head on his lap. He tossed the keys to Bobby, who quickly got behind the wheel, started the car, flipped a u'ey and sped down the road. Once Bobby reached the main road, he took a right and made a beeline for Rapid City.

Dean gently brushed Sam's wet hair away from his fevered forehead. He spoke soft, gentle words to him, telling him he loved him and couldn't live without him. It was a chick flick moment if ever there was one, but Dean didn't care. And he didn't care if Bobby saw the tears that escaped down his cheeks. This was his Sammy. They had fought so hard to find him, to save him. And they had succeeded, but it still felt like Dean was losing him.

Something just wasn't sitting well with him. It wasn't the way Sam looked, sounded, or felt. Although that was terrifying, that wasn't it. What Dean couldn't get out of his head was the light. The blue white light that had escaped the creature when it died. He couldn't help but think that was Sam's soul, or at least part of it. And, it hadn't gone back to Sam, it had disappeared. He didn't know what this meant for Sam, but he sensed it wasn't good. Through sheer willpower, Dean was able to push the thought from his mind. He needed to concentrate on Sam's health now. There would be time for brooding later.

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**Well, there you go. Dean is so worried, and he should be. Sam is definitely not out of the woods yet. Take care and enjoy your day.**

**Cindy.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Here is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it.**

**Cindy**

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Finally, they reached Rapid City and found the exit indicating the hospital was near. A few more miles and Bobby was pulling into the emergency room parking lot. He sped up to the ER doors and slammed the Impala into park. Jumping from the front seat, he rushed into the hospital, screaming for help.

Dean pushed the backdoor open and eased out from under Sam's head. "We're here Sammy. You're going to be fine. They'll fix you up in no time," Dean whispered softly into Sam's ear.

Abruptly, the ER doors burst open and several medical personel came rushing out with a gurney, followed closely by Bobby.

"Sir, you need to move out of the way!" insisted the orderly at the head of the pack.

Dean was pushed aside and the orderlies and nurses began the task of moving Sam from the car to the gurney. Dean could hardly contain himself when Sam cried out in pain during the transfer. Without warning, Sam began to shake uncontrollably, his back arching up from the gurney and his eyes rolling back into his head.

"He's convulsing! We need to get him in stat!" someone screamed.

"Where is the doctor?!" yelled someone else as they barreled through doors.

Dean ran after the gurney in a panic. "SAM!!" he screamed. He tried to follow Sam into the examination area but was held back by two orderlies.

"Sir, you can't come back here! You need to stay in the waiting room," one orderly stated.

"SCREW YOU ASSHOLE!! That's my brother!" Dean shouted, wanting to punch someone, anyone in the face.

Bobby grabbed Deans arm, trying to pull him back. Dean spun around, hand fisted, ready to strike before he saw who it was.

"Dean, let them help Sam. You'll only get in the way!" Bobby rationalized.

"Bobby, he needs me! I can't leave him alone! He's my life!!!" Dean pleaded.

"Look, I know Dean. I know how hard this is, but you need to let them do their jobs. They will take care of Sam. Come on, it's going to be a long night. Let's get a cup of coffee, and then we'll go sit right over there. You'll know something as soon as there is anything to know. Please Dean," Bobby said, his heart breaking for both Sam and Dean.

"Bobby, I can't lose him. I can't!!" Dean sobbed.

"The doctors will fix him Dean," Bobby replied.

"I don't think they can fix what I think is wrong with him," Dean whispered.

"What do you mean?" Bobby asked.

"Do you remember in the cave, when you killed that son of a bitch?" Dean queried. "Remember the light? The one that came out of the Jardoul? That was Sammy's soul, I know it! It didn't return to him. I don't think they can fix him if he doesn't have his soul. How do we get that back for him Bobby? How?" Dean was in near hysterics now, and Bobby reached out and pulled him into his arms, allowing him to sob into his shoulder.

"Dean, we'll figure this out. Maybe it wasn't Sam's soul."

"No Bobby, I know it was," Dean said between sobs.

Dean pulled away from Bobby and turned towards the doors that his little brother had been taken through, his heart hurting more with each passing second.

"Please Sammy. Come back to me, don't leave me alone!"

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_It drifted on the ceiling, watching the scene below. The boy, Sam, it's boy was seizing and the doctors and nurses were trying desperately to stop the convulsions. It heard someone scream "His heart stopped!" Someone else yelled "Get the paddles! Now!" The head doctor squeezed some sort of gel onto the paddles, then pressed the paddles onto Sam's chest, shouting "CLEAR" then Sam arched up from the table. "It didn't work!".... "AGAIN!".... "CLEAR!".... Sam arched again. "Still no heart beat.".... "Start manual compressions!".... "One, two, three, four, five...".... "Again".... "One, two, three, four, five...".... "We've got a rhythm!" _

_The hectic pace below confused it. But what confused it more was why it couldn't get back into the boy. When it had been released from the prison it had been held in, it saw the boy and tried to return to him, but was drawn upwards, away from him. It had been trying in vain ever since to regain entrance to his body, but was continually denied. It didn't understand. It wasn't the boy's time. Why couldn't it get back in? It had to succeed, otherwise the boy would die. It's boy would die. And to die without a soul was a sentence of eternal despair. _

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**Well? Did you like it? I hope so. One more chapter will be posted later tonight! Until then..................................**

**Cindy**


	17. Chapter 17

**As promised, here is the third post for today. I hope you enjoy and that you all have a wonderful night. More to come tomorrow. Only six chapters left.**

**Cindy**

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It had been three hours since Sam had been wheeled through the exam doors. Three hours of not knowing what was happening, and Dean was going crazy. The only contact he had made with anyone was when the nurse had come out to get Sam's personal and insurance information, and she didn't know squat about Sam's condition. Then, again when a different nurse came to inform them that Sam was being taken to surgery for his knife wound. She didn't have time to discuss Sam's condition. Besides, that was the doctor's job, she had informed Dean.

That was two hours ago, and Dean definitely wasn't one to think no news is good news. On top of everything else, he had to deal with the cop that had shown up to question him about what had happened to Sam. After explaining what had happened, minus the evil soul stealing bastard, Dean had sent the cop on his way, mumbling something about crazy people who got off on hurting other people for fun. Dean had to agree with him on that one.

"I swear Bobby, if I don't get some friggin news in the next five minutes, I'm gonna throw that fake ficus through the damn window!" Dean fumed.

"Dean, take it easy," Bobby said.

"I can't take it easy! I mean, what's taking so damn long!" Dean cried. "It's been three hours Bobby! I'm going crazy here!"

"Look Dean, Sam's in pretty rough shape, it's not going to take ten minutes to fix him up," Bobby retorted.

"Yeah, I know Bobby. I just need to know what's happening!"

Dean sank into a chair and rested his head in his hands. "Bobby, what if Sam doesn't make it?" Dean whispered, running his hands through his hair.

"He'll make it Dean. We have to believe that he'll be okay. Sam's strong. He's been through a lot and has always come through, maybe a little worse for wear, but always comes through," Bobby responded.

"But what if this is the time he doesn't? What if....."

"Family of Sam Mackey?" Dean jumped, and turned toward the voice. "Yeah, I'm Dean Mackey. How's my brother? Is he going to be okay?" Dean asked desperately.

"Mr. Mackey, your brother was in very serious condition when he was brought in. He required three units of blood, he was hypothermic, dehydrated, malnourished. Not to mention the knife wound," the man said.

"No offense, but I know what condition he was in, I'm the one who brought him in...."

"Oh, sorry, I'm Dr. Giles. I'll be treating your brother. I am the one who performed his surgery."

"So, how is Sam?" Dean asked wearily.

"You're brother is in critical condition and is being moved to the ICU as soon as he comes out of recovery. His heart stopped once but we were able to get it beating again. We did blood tests and found an unknown poison in his system, not a lethal dose, but enough to cause serious problems," Dr. Giles explained.

"Could the poison cause him to lose his eyesight?" Dean asked cautiously.

"I wasn't aware of any blindness. Your brother has not regained consciousness yet," Dr. Giles replied.

"When we found him, he said he couldn't see me, that everything was black," Dean answered.

"Well, it's a definite possibility but without knowing what the poison is, I couldn't say for sure," Dr. Giles stated.

"When can I see him?" Dean questioned.

"When he is moved to the ICU you can see him for a short time," the doctor replied.

"And my uncle, can he see him too?" Dean asked, indicating Bobby, who had been quietly listening a few steps behind Dean.

"He can see him too, but only ten minutes at a time," Dr. Giles responded. "I'll send someone for you when your brother has been settled," the doctor said, turning away.

"Wait, Dr. Giles, you didn't answer my question. Is Sam going to be okay?" Dean queried.

"The next 24 hours are critical. We're hoping to see an improvement in his vitals and the infection he has due to his wounds. He still has a high fever, which we are hoping will come down once the antibiotics start working on the infection. I'm sorry, I can't tell you with enough certainty that Sam is going to be okay, but he is very strong, obviously. That certainly will work in his favor. Let's give it 24 hours before I give you a more definite answer." With that, Dr. Giles turned and left Dean and Bobby standing motionless in the waiting room.

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**There it is. Sam's heading to ICU and Dean hasn't been given any information that will make him feel better. I think it will take seeing Sam's eyes and hearing his voice before Dean will relax even a tiny bit. He's kinda crazy that way when it comes to Sam. Well, I'll be back tomorrow. Until then, take care.**

**Cindy.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Well, here's the next chapter. I hope it satisfies until this afternoon.**

**Cindy**

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After what seemed like an eternity, a nurse came to get Dean and Bobby to take them to Sam. They loaded onto the elevator and rode in silence up to the third floor where the ICU unit was located. The nurse led the way, and soon they arrived at the ICU. There was a central nurses station, surrounded by the patient areas. The nurse led them to a room and slid the glass door open. They entered the room, but before the nurse let them step through the curtains she asked, "Now, Dr. Giles explained to you about your brothers condition?"

"Yeah, he did" Dean replied.

"And he explained that you can only stay for ten minutes every hour?"

"Yes, although I don't quite understand the reasoning there," Dean retorted.

"That's the rules Mr. Mackey, it's for the patients safety and well being," the nurse calmly replied. Obviously she'd had this conversation before.

Yeah, okay, can we see Sam now?" Dean said impatiently.

"Okay, your brother is hooked up to many machines, so don't be alarmed. His oxygen level is low, so he is wearing an oxygen mask. Don't remove it!" the nurse warned.

"No problem" was Dean's curt reply.

Dean and Bobby stepped through the curtains, and both abruptly stopped at the sight that met them. Sam lay perfectly motionless on the bed. Wires ran from several machines to his body, the heart monitor sounding a steady beep, beep, beep. Even in the dimly lit room, it was plain to see how pale he still was. The once larger than life young man looked inconceivably small and vulnerable. His neck and wrists were heavily bandaged, as Dean was sure his ankles and feet were also.

Dean broke free from the shock of seeing his little brother, and stepped up to the side of the bed, grasping Sam's hot hand in his own. He turned and saw a chair, which he grabbed and pulled over to the bed and sat down. He reached up with his other hand and gently brushed the unkempt hair from Sam's eyes. He leaned in and quietly whispered in his ear.

"Hey Sammy. It's Dean. I'm right here with you little brother. Please Sam, you have to be strong. You have to fight so you can come back to me. I need you Sam. I can't do this without you."

Bobby came up behind Dean and placed his hand on his shoulder. He looked at Sam and tears formed in the eyes of the grizzled man. "Hey Sam, it's Bobby. I know you've been wanting to take a vacation, to get some rest from this hunting stuff, but I gotta tell ya, this isn't the best way of going about it. You've got to get better Sam. Both Dean and I need you boy," Bobby choked out, turning away to hide the tears that were falling.

"Sammy, please open your eyes. I really need you to wake up. I know it hurts, but the doctors here fixed you up real good. They said you're going to be fine, so please just wake up. Just open your eyes Sammy!" Dean pleaded. "I'm so sorry Sam! I never should have gotten so mad about the Impala. All this is my fault! I can't lose you Sammy! Please wake up!"

Suddenly the nurse poked her head through the curtain. "I'm sorry, it's time to go Mr. Mackey. You can come back in an hour," she said.

Dean gave her a dirty look and leaned once more over to Sam's ear. "Sammy, we gotta go now, but we'll be back soon. You get some rest okay? I love you Sam," Dean said, then turned and followed Bobby out of the room. He never heard the soft whisper as he left.

"De..a..n?"

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_It was there above the bed when the brother and older man entered. Dean, that was the brother's name. It watched Dean take Sam's hand and sit on the chair. It watched him lean up to Sam's ear and softly whisper into it. It saw the anquish on the young man's face. And it felt something. Something it hadn't felt in long time, not since before being forced from Sam's body. It felt hope. The second the brother started to speak, it felt it. He was the key. He was what would save Sam. It only hoped that he would discover what needed to be done in time._

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**That's it for now. More to come later today.**

**Cindy**


	19. Chapter 19

**Thank you all for once again overwhelming me with your support of this story! You guys rock! Anyway, here is the next chapter for you all.**

**Cindy.**

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The last 24 hours were a complete blur. Dean broke them down into 10 minute segments. The 10 minutes every hour that he was allowed to sit with Sam. Talk to him, stroke his hair. Sam had yet to awaken, but Dean knew the most important thing was to talk to him, hold his hand, let him know he was there. It was so hard to leave after only 10 minutes, and Dean had insisted that it wouldn't hurt anything if he stayed. The nurses had held strong, not giving in to charm nor threats. Dean decided he would take it up with Dr. Giles when he saw him. What harm would it do? The way he saw it, it could only help Sam.

He was on his way to the ICU when he caught sight of Dr. Giles. He rushed down the hall, catching up to the doctor as he entered the unit.

"Dr. Giles? How is my brother? Is he improving?" Dean asked expectantly.

"Mr. Mackey, I've been told you've been giving the nurses quite a hard time," the doctor replied.

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry about that. I just think it can't hurt to stay with Sam. I don't understand how me sitting with him, talking to him can hurt his recovery," Dean answered.

"Well, I've actually taken a look at Sam's stat's and it seems they improve slightly when you are around. I'll talk to the nurses about getting you a more comfortable chair. We only have a few patients in the ICU at this time, so I don't see a reason why you can't stay by his side," Dr. Giles said with a smile.

"Thanks. I really appreciate it. So, how is he?" Dean asked.

"Well, to be honest, his vitals aren't improving as well as I had hoped they would. His infection has improved, but his temperature hasn't. His wounds seem to be healing, but his heart rate, blood pressure, and oxygen levels have not improved. I'm also concerned that he hasn't awakened yet," Dr. Giles said worriedly.

"Could it be the poison? Could it have been more dangerous than you first thought?" Dean asked, trying to keep the panic that was creeping up on him at bay.

"I had the same thought, so I had another blood sample taken and sent to the forensics lab here in Rapid City. I'm still waiting for the results. I have to say though, I still don't think it's the poison. It's almost like he has lost his will. With all of his injuries healing, his vitals should be improving, but they aren't. I just can't explain it. There really is no reason for him to still be this ill. I don't know, maybe the trauma of his experience was just too much," Dr. Giles replied sadly.

"Sam hasn't given up. He would never give up. He's a fighter, always has been, always will be! Maybe he just needs the rest, and this is his bodies way of getting that rest," Dean said hopefully, knowing it was something far more complicated than that.

"I hope so. Okay, why don't you give me 15 minutes to check on Sam then you can come in. I'll let the nurses know that you will be staying," Dr. Giles said, turning and heading towards Sam's room.

Dean walked down the hall to the ICU waiting room and sank into a chair. They had to figure this out or Sam was just going to waste away and die. He wasn't going to let that happen, not on his watch. He took out his cell phone and punched in Bobby's cell number. Bobby picked up on the second ring.

"Hey Dean. How's Sam?" he asked.

"The same Bobby, and the doctors concerned. He can't figure out why he isn't improving. Why he hasn't awakened yet," Dean replied. "Have you found out any more on that poison?"

"Well, I've searched every book that I brought with me, and I can't find anything that indicates the poison is for anything other than to weaken the victim, making it easier to extract the soul. It's not made of anything lethal. I just don't think it's the poison Dean," Bobby replied.

"So, what is it Bobby? And why couldn't he see?" Dean asked fearfully.

"I've been thinking. You seem pretty sure that Sam's soul didn't return to him. Maybe he isn't improving because without his soul, he can't. And you know the saying 'the eye's are the window to the soul'? Maybe, no soul, no sight," Bobby explained.

"So Sam's just going to wither and die unless we can get his soul back?! How do we do that Bobby? How do we get something back when we don't even know where to find it?!" Dean cried, the panic taking hold.

"I don't know Dean. I wish I did, but I don't," Bobby whispered.

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Bobby sat back down at the table after hanging up with Dean. He was at his wits end, trying to find a way to save Sam. Sam was wasting away before their eyes, and Dean was slowly coming undone. He was certain that the only way to save Sam was to return his soul to his body. He had come back to Harriston to do more research and to pack up Sam and Dean's things. They needed to figure this out before it was too late. Sam's life depended on it.

If they only knew how simple it was. Just one little act, and Sam's soul could return to him. But they were running out of time. Soon, nothing would save him.

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**There you go. A little longer this time. Please let me know what you think.**

**Cindy.**


	20. Chapter 20

**I am so sorry! I forgot to post this this morning when I got off work. I hope you all forgive me. Without further ado, on to the story.**

**Cindy**

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Dean sat next to Sam's bed, his hands holding Sam's one. The nurse, Annie, Dean thought, hadn't been too happy about Dean getting to stay, thus breaking the rules. But she had brought him a more comfortable chair, per Dr. Giles orders. Dean had given her a cocky grin and she had stormed out of the room, muttering something that Dean couldn't make out. He didn't care if she was pissed. They weren't going to keep him from Sam anymore. This is where he belonged, and he wasn't going anywhere.

He looked at Sam's pale face and shook his head. How had this happened? How could someone go from the vibrant, full of life pain in the ass brother of a week ago, to this pale, fragile shell of a person. Sam looked like he had lost 30 pounds. His flesh was pulled tightly across his face causing his cheekbones to protrude sharply.

Dean could see that Sam was fading. He didn't need an expert to tell him he was losing his brother. How was he supposed to go on? He knew Sam would want him to, but how could he? Sam was his life, his reason for breathing. His whole life had been spent taking care of, worrying about, and protecting him. And now he was just supposed to watch him shrink away? He couldn't let that happen. But what could he do? He knew what Sam needed, but how could he get it for him.

He lowered his forehead down onto Sam's hand and softly cried. He didn't know if he could do it this time. For the first time in his life, Dean didn't know if he could save Sam.

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_It watched from above, saddened by the despair and anguish it sensed in Dean. He loved his brother more than life. Would die for him if he had to. And it knew that Sam felt the same, would do the same. It slowly descended, hoping it could somehow reach Dean, help him discover what needed to be done. He was losing hope and that would mean disaster. It slowly enveloped him, sending forth it's message that it prayed he would receive. "Have faith Dean. All you need is faith to heal Sam," it softly whispered over and over again, before once again taking it's place above Sam's bed._

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Dean sat there with his head resting on Sam's hand for several minutes, despair washing over him in waves. Sam was going to die while he sat there and watched. He felt completely useless. What good was he if he couldn't help his own brother?

A sudden warm feeling spread over his body and he was overcome with a sense of calm. He sat up and looked at Sam. He was still there, still dying. But the sound from the various machines and monitors was somehow muffled, like he had cotton in his ears. He looked around in confusion.

Suddenly, he heard a soft voice. He couldn't determine if he actually heard the voice, or if it was in his head. But one thing he did know. It was Sam's voice. He looked at Sam, who laid perfectly still, and he definitely wasn't speaking. Dean tried to comprehend what the voice was saying, but it was so soft, he couldn't make out the words. It kept repeating the words over and over, and finally they became clear. "Have faith Dean. All you need is faith to heal Sam." All at once, the veil was lifted and the warmth and calmness left.

"What the hell?" Dean whispered. He looked around, but nobody was near. Have faith? What the hell did that mean? He shook his head in an attempt to clear the thoughts there.

Suddenly, an alarm sounded, jerking Dean from his thoughts. He rushed to Sam's side to see what was wrong. Sam was gasping for air, sounding as if he could get none. Several nurses rushed into the room, pushing Dean aside. "You need to move Mr. Mackey!" Annie shouted. "Someone page Dr. Giles stat!" yelled another.

What's happening?" Dean cried, nearly hyperventilating.

"He can't breathe! Something is obstructing his airway!" Annie shouted.

Dr. Giles ran into the room, going immediately to Sam's head. "What's happened?" he queried.

"Something is cutting off his air supply," another nurse called.

"We need to intubate! Now!!" the doctor shouted. Annie rushed the instruments to Dr. Giles who tried to slide the breathing tube into Sam's throat.

"His throat is swollen shut! I can't see the chords to put in the breathing tube! I need the trach kit now!" Dr. Giles shouted.

A nurse handed the doctor a scalpel, which he used to make a small incision in the soft part of Sam's throat. He then inserted a short tube into the incision, attaching the breathing apparatus to the tube, then taped it all into place. Sam's breathing steadily began to calm. His lips, which had turned a sickly shade of blue, began to return to a more healthy pink. Annie then removed the oxygen mask from his face.

Dean, who had been pushed to the corner, stood motionless, his hand covering his mouth. He had tears streaming down his cheeks. Sam almost died. Right this minute, right in front of his eyes, Sam nearly died. He tried to move closer, but the nurses were still fussing over his brother. Dr. Giles moved over to Dean, looking at him worriedly.

"Mr. Mackey? Are you okay? I think you should sit down," he said.

"It's Dean. M..my name is Dean. I'm okay. What was that?!" Dean asked, trying to slow his breathing.

"Sam's throat is swollen shut. I couldn't get the tube in, so I had to perform a tracheaotomy so he can breathe," the doctor explained.

"No, I got that! But why? Why did his throat swell?" Dean pleaded.

"Sam's body suffered great trauma. There are many complications that can occur," the doctor replied.

"Is Sam dying?" Dean asked fearfully.

"I can't say for sure that he is. Things could turn around," Dr. Giles said.

"But will they? What are the odds that he'll come back from this?" Dean cried.

"In my professional opinion, I think you should prepare yourself for the worst," Dr. Giles said qently.

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**Ummmmmm...okay, don't kill me or anything. I'll post another chapte in a few hours.**

**Cindy.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Okay, I've got a bit longer of a chapter for you. I hope you like it.**

**Cindy.**

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Bobby entered the ICU and instantly sensed that something was wrong. He hurried to Sam's room and slipped through the curtain. The first thing he noticed was the breathing tube protruding from Sam's throat.

"Dean, what the hell?!" he cried. Dean slowly turned his head toward Bobby. His eyes were swollen and red rimmed. He looked more tired than Bobby had ever seen him.

"Sam stopped breathing. His throat was swollen completely shut. The doctor had to cut a hole in his throat and shoved a friggin tube into it so he wouldn't suffocate!" Dean cried. "Shit Bobby, Sam nearly died! And I just stood in the corner and watched, helpless to do anything!"

"So, is he okay now?" Bobby asked.

Dean jumped up from his chair in an instant. "No Bobby! He's not okay! The doctor doesn't think he's going to live. He told me to prepare myself for the worst!" Dean cried.

"Dean, I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do," Bobby said sadly.

"There's nothing anybody can do! Sam's dying and nobody can stop it! What am I going to do? Bobby, what am I going to do without him?" Dean pled. "I can't do this Bobby! I can't sit and watch him die. I've gotta get out of here! I can't breathe in here!" Dean ran from the room before Bobby could speak. He contemplated going after him, but decided he needed a little space.

Bobby sat in the chair next to Sam's bed and took Sam's hand in his. He looked at his face. He looked so young and vulnerable. "Oh Sam," he whispered.

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Dean ran from the ICU, not really knowing where he was going. He just had to get out of that room. He couldn't bare to look at Sam like that anymore. He ran down hallways and stairs, and then more hallways. Finally he stopped, bending over to catch his breath. When he stood, he looked around. "No way!" he thought. He was staring at a door directly in front of him with a sign on it. The sign read 'Hospital Chapel'.

Dean shook his head and started to walk away, but something made him stop and turn around. He approached the door, opened it and walked inside. The chapel was small, only room for a few pews and an altar. He stepped up to the first pew and took a seat. The door at the front of the chapel opened and a priest entered the room.

Dean nodded to the priest and rose from the pew. "Is there something I can help you with son?" the priest asked.

"No Father, no, I'm fine" Dean replied.

"Are you? You certainly don't look fine. Why don't you sit back down and talk to me. Maybe I can help. That is my job you know," the priest said with a smile in his eyes.

Dean stood for a moment then sank back down into the pew. "It's my little brother. He's dying and there's nothing I can do. My whole life, it's been my job to protect Sammy, to keep him safe. I screwed up, and now he's dying," Dean said quietly.

"Why is it your job?" the priest asked.

"Ever since our mom died when Sam was six months old, it's just been what I've done. What I've wanted to do," Dean replied.

"So, now you feel you've failed him?"

"I did fail him," Dean stated.

"Have you asked the Lord for guidance?" the priest queried.

"I'm not really a believer Father."

"God listens to all his children, whether they think they believe or not."

"I wouldn't know what to say" Dean whispered.

"Just say what's in your heart. Have faith," the priest replied, slowly turning and walking away.

Dean waited for the priest to leave the chapel. For the second time that day, someone had told him to have faith. But faith in what? Dean was ready to walk out of the chapel but for some reason, he couldn't. He grasped the back of the pew in front of him and rested his head on his hands. And then he did something that he had never done. Dean Winchester began to pray.

"God, I've never done this before. Hell, I...uh, sorry, I don't even know quite how to. I've never really believed in you, but Sam believes. And if Sam believes, well then that's good enough for me. Please, I need Sam. The world needs him. Please don't let him die. Please bring him back to me. Please? He has been through so much. Too much! He is the strongest person I know. Stronger than me. God, please, I can't lose him. Please heal him. Please? I haven't even been able to say I'm sorry yet."

Dean broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. He fell sideways onto the pew and just lay there and cried. After several minutes, he rose and left the chapel. He had to get back to Sam.

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_It had watched the chaos below in Sam's room, the confusion and panic heavy in the air. It had watched Dean press into the corner, watching in horror as the doctor worked on his brother. It had followed him down the hallways and stairwells, then finally into the chapel. It heard his heartwrenching prayer, and it had renewed hope. Dean had done what needed to be done. He had broken down the barrier that he had built, asked what needed to be asked. All for Sam. All for love. Now it was time to return to Sam where it belonged._

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Dean hurried to the ICU, to Sam. He stepped through the curtain to find Bobby seated in the chair, Sam's hand in his. Bobby was softly speaking to Sam. Dean couldn't hear what was being said, but he saw small tremors quake through the older hunter and he knew that Bobby was crying. Bobby seemed to sense Deans presence, as he stopped speaking and turned towards him, rising from the chair.

"Dean, I'm sorry. I wish I could have found something to help Sam," Bobby sadly said.

"It's okay Bobby. You tried," Dean said as he moved to Sam's side. He reached up and softly touched Sam's fevered cheek. He was reaching for Sam's hand when he heard Bobby gasp. He looked over to him and saw him looking up to the ceiling. Dean turned his gaze upward and slowly began to back away from the bed.

"What the hell?" he whispered in awe.

Above Sam's bed a blue white light shimmered and pulsated. It hung in the air for a few minutes, then slowly descended and enveloped Sam's body. For a few seconds Dean and Bobby could only see the light, Sam lost in it's glow. Then it slowly seemed to be absorbed into Sam's body, disappearing altogether.

Dean and Bobby looked at each other, shock not allowing them to speak. Dean carefully moved again to Sam's side, taking his hand.

"Sammy? Sam, can you hear me?" Dean pleaded. He smoothed Sam's hair and bent down closer to his ear. "Sammy, wake up. Come on little bro."

Dean turned to Bobby, tears in his eyes. He gently laid Sam's hand down and started to back away. Without warning, Sam's hand weakly grabbed Deans wrist. Dean jerked his head around toward Sam. "Sam?" he asked hesitantly.

Slowly, Sam's eyes began to open, blinking, confused. "D..ea..n?" he croaked, the tube in his throat allowing for only that much.

"Oh my God! Sammy!" Dean cried joyously, new tears spilling down his cheeks. He bent down and rested his head on Sam's chest wrapping his arms carefully over Sam's shoulders. He stayed this way for a moment, then released Sam and stood up.

Sam turned his head towards Dean, a small smile forming on his cracked lips. "Hey" he whispered. Dean turned to look at Bobby, who had a huge grin on his face. He moved next to Dean.

"Hey Sam. You gave us quite a scare!" Bobby gleefully announced.

Sam smiled weakly and closed his eyes once more.

"Bobby" Dean whispered so that Sam wouldn't hear "What just happened?"

"I don't know. His soul returned I guess. I don't know how, but it did," Bobby replied, shaking his head and rubbing his hand over his beard. "Did you do anything Dean?"

"No, I mean, I ended up in the hospital chapel and talked to the priest. Then I prayed," Dean replied.

"You...prayed?" Bobby asked incredulously.

"It seemed like the thing to do I guess," Dean remarked sheepishly. "Could that have been it? Is that all that needed to be done?" Dean questioned. "If I had known that, I would have been in that chapel yesterday!" Dean announced.

"It might not have worked then. Maybe you needed to be pushed to that point of desperation. I don't know Dean," Bobby replied.

"I guess it doesn't matter. Sam's awake. That's all that matters," Dean quipped, turning back to his brother, who had fallen into a wonderfully peaceful sleep.

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**Well? Am I forgiven for nearly killing our Sammy off? Now that Sam is awake, the healing can begin. Please let me know how you liked (or didn't like) it.**

**Cindy.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Sorry I didn't post this morning. I was having trouble getting a connection. Anyway, this is the next to the last chapter. One more after this and we are through. **

**Cindy.**

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**Four Days Later**

Sam had spent two more days in the ICU until Dr. Giles had announced he was recovered enough to move to his own room on the Surgical floor. The doctor was still amazed at Sam's progress. He had been shocked when he entered Sam's ICU room after being paged that he had awakened. Sam's throat showed very little of the swelling that had been present only a few hours before. The breathing tube had been left in one more day just to be on the safe side. All of Sam's vitals had improved dramatically and all the doctor could say was that it was a miracle. Dean had looked at him, his eyebrow raised, and that 'what the...' grin on his face. The doctor had simply shrugged his shoulders and said he'd seen more than one miracle. Sam's however was the most miraculous he had seen.

Now Sam was in a private room, sleeping most of the time. Dean was a constant at his bedside, never leaving except to use the facilities or grab a bite to eat. Dean had been able to catch up on some of his sleep by propping his feet up on the end of Sam's bed and reclining back in the chair.

"So, Sam," Dean said reluctantly.

"Yeah Dean?" Sam replied.

"I'm sorry man."

"Sorry for what?"

"Everything. All of this."

"Dean…"

"No Sam. If I hadn't gotten so pissed at you and practically thrown you out the door, this never would have happened!"

"Dean, it would have happened no matter what. That thing told me that it sensed me, that it was waiting for me. It probably would have gotten me anyway," Sam whispered, that haunted look in his eyes that Dean had been noticing the past few days.

"Yeah, maybe. Sam, you know that I don't care more for the Impala than you, right?"

"I don't know Dean. You don't talk as sweet to me as you do to her," Sam teased.

"Shut up Sam!" Dean barked.

"Seriously Dean, don't worry about it. It wasn't your fault," Sam said. "You and Bobby saved my life. I mean, come on Dean, you prayed and everything!"

"Oh, shoot me now!" Dean cried, rolling his eyes. "Okay Sam. You up to trying to get your lazy ass out of that bed for awhile?"

"I'm kinda tired Dean," Sam replied, the smile leaving his face.

Dean knew it was more because it hurt like hell for Sam to get up on his tortured feet, but he didn't mention that.

"Well, if you'd eat something you wouldn't be so tired. You need to eat Sam, to get your strength up," Dean preached.

"I just don't feel much like eating. I don't really have an appetite."

"Well you gotta eat Sam, or you'll never get out of this place."

"Dean, I'm pretty tired. Can we do this later?" Sam asked, slowly closing his eyes.

"Yeah, sure Sam. Get some rest," Dean said quietly.

Dean watched Sam sleep, frowning when he would moan or whimper. The dreams had started the previous day. Dean knew that Sam was most likely reliving his torture, but he wouldn't talk about it. Dean just needed to get Sam out of this place and back on the road. Problem was, Sam needed to get his strength back first. He wasn't eating well, and when they tried to get him up and walking, well let's just say, when some freak of nature cuts the crap out of the bottoms of your feet, it makes walking a little difficult. Dean got pissed everytime he thought about it. Sam was still so weak. They had a lot of work to do to get him ready to leave the hospital.

Although the 'miracle' had stablized Sam, his wounds were still taking their own sweet time to heal. The cuts on his feet and wrists were starting to heal, but they had been pretty deep. The wound in his neck from the tracheotomy would require extra time to heal. The scars that would be left from these wounds would be a constant reminder to both Sam and Dean of how close this one was.

Dean worried about Sam's emotional scars more than his physical ones. He had a feeling that those scars ran far deeper than the physical ones, and would take a lot more time to heal, if they ever fully did at all.

Dean rose from the chair, intent on getting something to eat. He brushed the hair from Sam's eyes and stood watching him for a few more minutes. He figured he had at least an hour before Sam woke up, giving him plenty of time to eat and get back to Sam's room. Sam had awoken once when Dean wasn't by his side, and had nearly hyperventilated from the panic. Dean wasn't about to let that happen again, so he silently slipped out of the room, deciding to just bring the food back to eat.

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Sam awoke with a start, blinking his eyes and searching the room in fear, looking for the Jardoul in every darkened corner. Finally shaking himself from the dream, he realized he wasn't back in the cave, but was in his hospital room. He looked around, searching for Dean. When he didn't see him, he began to panic. He willed himself to calm his breathing. He rationalized that Dean was probably in the bathroom. He sat completely still, watching the bathroom door and waiting for it to open. After five minutes with no Dean, Sam began again to panic. His heart began to race and his breathing became ragged. Sam had to find Dean.

Sam pushed the covers from his legs and slowly moved them around until they were dangling over the side of the bed. He weakly pushed himself to the edge of the bed, then gingerly placed his bandaged feet on the floor. He pushed up from the bed, and pain immediately shot up through his feet and legs, making him gasp. He stood for a moment, holding on to the bed for support, until he was sure his legs would be strong enough to support him. He grabbed ahold of the stand that held his IV bags then let go of the bed with his other hand.

Once again, he stood still for a moment, a wave of dizziness washing over him. Once the dizziness passed, he began to move. He carefully took a step, then another, wincing each time the pain shot through him. He made it about three feet from the bed when another wave of dizziness accompanied by nausea swept over him. His legs turned to rubber, giving out on him in an instant.

Sam tumbled to the floor in a heap, pulling the IV stand over on top of him. He lay there, waiting for the dizziness and nausea to subside. He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. It was at that moment the door opened to his room and he heard his name being screamed, followed by a loud crash. Then he passed out.

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Dean walked down the hall, a tray of food in his hands. He actually thought the food from the cafeteria wasn't half bad. He'd even snagged Sam a few things, even if it was a no-no. He didn't care; if he could get Sam to eat something, he would. He stopped to flirt with a few of the cuter nurses on his way, flashing them his signature knock'em dead smile. He hadn't been in this good of a mood in such a long time, well he couldn't even remember.

Sam was alive and well, at least physically. The emotional part they could work on. He finally reached Sam's room, turning and pushing the door open with his hip. He turned to make his way into the room when he saw Sam lying on the floor, unmoving. He dropped the tray of food and rushed across the room.

"Sam!" he screamed frantically.

He dropped to the floor beside Sam, automatically reaching for his neck and feeling for a pulse. He let out the breath he had been holding in when he found a strong beat under his fingers. A nurse who had heard the commotion came rushing into the room, nearly slipping on the spilled food. She immediately paged Dr. Giles when she saw what had happened. She then summoned two orderlies to help lift Sam into bed.

Dr. Giles rushed into the room just as the nurse had finished reinserting Sam's IV. He walked up to the bed and began a quick examination of his patient. He looked briefly over to see Deans worried eyes staring back at him. After checking Sam's pupils and pulse, he looked once again at Dean and smiled. "He's going to be fine. Now, what happened?"

"I just stepped out to get some food after he went to sleep. I was gone about fifteen minutes, came back and he was lying on the floor" Dean replied. "He must of woke up and panicked when he saw I was gone. Decided to come looking for me."

Just then, Sam began to stir. He bolted up, looking around, confusion in his eyes. "Dean?" he cried, the focus finally returning to his eyes.

"I'm here Sammy," Dean said, grabbing Sam's hand.

Sam looked at Dean, visibly relaxing then collapsed back onto the pillow in exhaustion. "I woke up and you weren't here. I decided to try to find you. I got really dizzy and sick to my stomach. My legs gave out on me," Sam said weakly. "I'm sorry Dean."

"Hey, it's okay. You just scared the holy living shit right out of me is all!" Dean teased.

"Sorry," Sam said, closing his eyes.

"Hey Sammy. I was just joking. Just do me a favor will ya?" Dean quipped.

"What Dean?" Sam asked, looking up at him.

"The next time you decide to go for a walk, at least have a hot nurse to hold you up!"

Dr. Giles snickered and said "Well, now that the current drama seems to be over, I'm going to go finish my rounds. I'll be back in to see you this evening."

"Okay, thanks doc," Dean said.

"So, did Bobby take off?" Sam asked sheepishly.

"Oh, trying to change the subject huh?" Dean teased. "And yeah, he left this morning."

"I really am sorry Dean. I'll try to not be such a big baby, okay?" Sam whispered.

"Sam, it's okay. I understand. You went through hell. You're bound to be a little jumpy. I just want you to remember something. I am never going to leave you. Never!"

"I know Dean. And some day I'll talk to you about my nightmares. I'm just not ready yet, okay? I mean, I can tell you're worried about me."

"In your own time Sammy. In your own time" Dean said with a smile.

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**There you go! I hope that was satisfactory. Will try to post the last chapter later tonight but with the weather we are having, my internet connection is giving me grief! Take care all!**

**Cindy.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Well, this is it. Thank you so much to everyone who has read my story and to those who left me the wonderful reviews! I'm so glad you all liked it. Without further ado.....**

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**Epilogue:**

**Two weeks later**

Dean strolled into Sam's room, pushing a wheelchair and wearing a huge grin. Sam was being released today. No more sleeping on the thin cot the nurses had brought for him when he refused to get a motel, preferring to stay with Sam. No more hospital food. But best of all, no more watching Sam doing his laps in the hall and wanting to punch the orderlies whenever Sam winced in pain.

Once they walked out the doors, Sam was all his again. No watching from the sidelines as someone else helped his brother stretch his wrists and feet to avoid scar tissue limiting his range of motion, and seeing the pain in his eyes. It would all be up to him now, just the way it should be.

Sam would have gotten out sooner, but his knife wound had proven a little problematic. He had developed a low grade fever and it had been determined that he had another infection. That was all taken care of now. Physically, Sam was at about 75%. Good enough to go home, but they still had work to do. He still tired easily and was still in a little pain. Emotionally, he hadn't fared as well. He was still having nightmares, and still wouldn't talk about it.

Dean could leave him alone, as long as Sam was awake when he left. He didn't dare leave if Sam was asleep, as he would come out of the dreams confused, thinking he was back in the cave. He would look around for Dean and panic if he didn't see him. The shrink who had been meeting with him had taught him some coping techniques, and they did help some. But Dean figured the best technique was to get him out of this depressing place and back on the road.

Dean looked around the room, panicking a little when he didn't see Sam. Then he heard the water running in the bathroom and relaxed, shaking his head. Sam wasn't the only one who was a little jumpy.

"Sam?" Dean said, knocking on the door.

"Hey Dean. I'm just washing up."

"Get a move on, we're wasting daylight here!"

"I'll be out in a minute."

Dean went about collecting Sam's meager possessions and stuffed them into his duffel, along with the antibiotics and pain pills that Dr. Giles had prescribed. He then stood and watched the bathroom door, waiting for Sam to come out. When the door opened, he moved closer, at the ready in case Sam needed him.

Sam slowly made his way out of the bathroom, leaning heavily on the crutches that had been provided for him. His limp was getting better, but was still quite obvious. He saw the wheelchair and groaned, shaking his head.

"Do I have to go out in that thing?" he whined.

"If you want to get out of here sometime today you do," Dean replied. "Besides, it's doctors orders. Now hurry up, your chariot awaits!"

Sam hobbled over to the chair and sank into it, propping his crutches on the foot rest. He quickly pulled his sleeves down after they had pulled up from his wrists, a move that didn't escape Dean's eagle eyes. He had noticed that Sam didn't like looking at his healing wounds, avoiding them as much as possible. He especially seemed wary about his wrists, not even wanting anyone else to see them either. Dean thought maybe he was sensitive to people thinking they were from a suicide attempt. He knew the sight of all his wounds brought back vivid memories. Dean sure didn't blame him for that. Every time he saw them, anger would build in him until he had to turn away.

They finally reached the lobby and Dean pushed Sam through the front doors.

"Okay Samantha, get your lazy ass up and start walking!" he teased.

"Whatever!" Sam retorted.

Sam pushed himself slowly to his feet and got himself situated on his crutches. Dean rolled the wheelchair to the side then hurried back to Sam's side, his hand resting lightly in the middle of Sam's back in case he stumbled. They headed out into the bright afternoon sun. Sam squinted, temporarily blinded. It had been a long time since he had felt the sun on his face. He stopped and raised his face up, eyes closed and just let the sun warm him for a moment.

Dean gave him a soft push, and he began walking again. It was only a short distance to the Impala, but by the time they got to it, Sam was breathing heavily and a thin film of sweat had formed on his brow. He stopped at the car and took a good long look.

"Hey! You fixed the Impala!" he cried.

"No, actually, Bobby fixed her before he headed home," Dean replied.

"Well, it's good to see it back together."

"You got that right little brother!"

Dean helped Sam into the passenger seat then dumped his stuff into the trunk. He slid in behind the wheel and started the Impala up, the familiar rumble coming to life. He looked over at Sam, who had rested his head back onto the seat, his eyes closed.

"So, where to Sammy? Do you want me to find a motel for a couple of days?" Dean asked.

"No Dean. I think I'd like to just ride for awhile," Sam said, a smile forming on his tired face.

"Are you sure? You're looking pretty tired."

"I'm sure Dean. I just want to be on the road again. I just want to be home."

"That's my boy!" Dean thought with a smile.

He pulled out of the parking lot and was soon taking the off ramp to the highway, careful not to head in the direction of Harriston. He looked again at Sam, who was eagerly looking out the side window.

Oh yeah, they were definitely home.

The End

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**Okay, so that's it! Thanks again for all of your support. I have been overwhelmed by the attention my story has received. You all rock!!! Now, in a few days I will start posting the sequel to this. It really is a stand alone, and only has references back to this story. The name of the story is Combustible. I just need to convert it to Word before I start to post. Until then, take care all!**

**Cindy.**


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